


Out of Time

by Enochian Things (Salr323)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode: s11e16 Safe House, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Profound Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salr323/pseuds/Enochian%20Things
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind him there’s the flutter of wings and the old, familiar sensation of displaced air against the back of his neck.  Dean opens his eyes, stares at the unfinished sigil.  He holds his breath; this could be an illusion, or – worse – it could be Lucifer…</p><p>(Coda 11.16)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Time

So they head for Tennessee. 

No matter how much Dean is itching to get back on Lucifer’s trail, on Amara’s, this is a monster that needs taking out; who knows how many souls it’s got trapped in its freaky-assed nest? 

Besides, there’s something about this case that’s messing with Dean’s head. He spends most of the ten hour drive to Tennessee trying to figure out what.

He thinks about Bobby, about the look they’d shared, and he knows it was no dream. That _was_ Bobby and four years on it still hurts like a bitch to glimpse his old friend. God, but he misses the cranky bastard. He misses them all, everyone he’s lost. He misses them every day.

It’s frustrating to think about the nest, about a place that exists outside of time where you could run into all the people you’ve lost if you just knew how to call them there. It’s frustrating to think that it’s only space and time keeping you apart, rather than fate or destiny or bad fucking luck. And he wonders if it would be possible to create somewhere like the nest, a meeting place outside time for everyone you’ve lost along the way: Mom and Dad, Jo and Ellen, Kevin and Charlie. Bobby.

Cas.

But it’s not only seeing Bobby that’s messing with his head. Lost friends aside, this case feels more significant than a simple monster hunt. It feels like the universe is trying to send him a message because it was a freaking _Soul Eater_. And, yeah, he ain’t so stupid that he doesn’t get the joke; he’s met a soul eater already and her name’s Amara. 

Dean figures he’s been around too long to believe that’s just coincidence.

On cue, like the freak he is, Sam chooses that moment to say, “So – interesting point.”

“Huh?”

Sam clears his throat and out the corner of his eye Dean sees him strike a deceptively laidback pose, as if he’s trying to downplay what’s about to come out of his mouth. “When you, uh, were possessed, the Soul Eater had some stuff to say.”

“Yeah?” He’s not sure he wants to hear this, but he’s pretty sure he needs to. “About what?”

“About you, actually.”

Dean taps his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplates turning up the music and just drowning out the world. Instead he sighs and says, “Go on. Hit me.” 

Sam takes a breath and blurts, “It said you wanted to go to the Darkness. It said you _needed_ to. I mean, obviously it’s evil but…” He trails off, uncertain.

A couple bars of music play out on the radio, but Dean’s barely listening. Sam doesn’t say any more, squirming uncomfortably. 

“It wasn’t wrong,” Dean says at last. “I mean, I told you that, right? Amara – she’s got this hold on me. It’s not that I _want_ to, it’s just that I can’t _not_ … It’s like an addiction or something. You know?”

He doesn’t mention Ruby and the demon blood, but he knows he doesn’t have to; Sam just nods and says, “Yeah, I get it. I do. But— How did it know?”

“Because it was inside my head?”

“Maybe,” Sam concedes. “But I’ve been thinking… _Soul_ Eater?”

“Right,” Dean says. “Yeah.”

“Coincidence?”

Dean shakes his head, because when is it ever a coincidence? “At least we killed it,” he says. “And we’ll gank the next one too. If they’re some kind of allies of Amara she’ll be two short.” Like that would make a difference, but he’s got to look for the wins where he can find them; he’s already a fucking liability in this fight, the weak link in the chain, and Sam knows it.

Cas must have known it too, he figures, because why else would he have thrown his lot in with freakin’ Lucifer? After everything Cas sacrificed to put him back in the cage, why the hell else would he let the devil ride him out again? The realization intensifies the weight of his shame; Dean’s always known that Cas put too much faith in him, but seeing him lose that faith is even worse...

He doesn’t realize his hand has become a fist, tapping on the steering wheel, until Sam says, “You okay?”

“Fan-freakin-tastic.” He flexes his fingers and then, out of the blue, adds, “You think Cas just gave up?” He doesn’t add _on me_ , but it’s implicit.

Sam shoots him a look. “What?”

“I mean, why else would he…?” He shakes his head; Sam’s got no answers and they’ve been over this a million times. There’s only one person who really knows, and he’s put himself out of play. 

“Cas said he wanted to be of service to the fight,” Sam says, repeating the only thing they know for sure like it might make more sense this time around.

Dean snorts. “ _Service_...” 

“Cas always wants to be of service. I mean, it’s literally the reason he was created – to be a servant of God.”

“Yeah, well, God ain’t in the picture anymore and fuck knows we don’t need him serving us.” As close as he and Cas have been – and, yeah, he knows they’ve drifted in the years since Purgatory – he’s never really been able to get inside the dude’s head. But it hurts to think that Cas still imagines he needs to be of service – to anyone. 

Sam lets out a breath. “He wants to be useful – that’s…well, that’s just human, isn’t it? We all want to be useful to someone.”

“Not to our friends!” 

Hesitant, Sam ventures, “I think, maybe, Cas doesn’t really get that he’s a friend? That we don’t need him to be useful to still want him around?”

“Then he’s an idiot,” Dean growls.

“He’s an angel. He doesn’t have our frame of reference, Dean. Cut him some slack.”

That brings him up short. He knows he can be hard on people, hell he’s hard on himself, but if Sam thinks he’s being too hard on Cas… He glances at his brother’s frowning face and tries to ignore the queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach. Is it possible that he somehow _drove_ Cas to this? “You think we should’ve been… I dunno, paying more attention or something?”

Lips pressed tight, Sam nods. “Yeah, maybe. Dude, Cas has been in a bad way for a long time and we…” In his lap, Sam’s fingers clench and unclench. “I guess he’s always just Cas – always there – except when he isn’t – always on our side…”

“Except when he isn’t.”

“C’mon,” Sam protests, “that’s not fair.”

Dean allows that with a shrug, although he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sting of his betrayal. And maybe Cas knew that, maybe that’s part of the problem; maybe he never knew he’d been forgiven. Dean’s pretty sure he never told him, not in actual words that Cas would understand. He tightens his fingers on the steering wheel. “We gotta find a way to talk to him,” he says. “Convince him to ditch the devil and come back to us.”

“Maybe,” Sam says, and it sounds thoughtful rather than placating. “But at this point Cas thinks we need Lucifer more than we need him.”

“Which is a stinking pile of bullshit…”

“I know, but that’s what he thinks.”

Dean grits his teeth around a sigh. “I can’t believe we fucked this up so bad,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road because it’s easier than seeing his own guilt mirrored in Sam’s face. “I mean, it’s _Cas_ , man. How the fuck did we let him believe that?”

There’s an uncomfortable silence before Sam speaks. “Honestly?” he says. “It’s probably because we’re always so freaking self-absorbed. I mean, shit, Dean – the crap we’ve let loose on the world just to save each other? The things – the _people_ – we’ve sacrificed? It’s messed up. You know it is. Next to that, it’s not exactly surprising that Cas would feel like he’s expendable.”

“Expendable…?” The word sits tight in his chest, coils around his lungs like a fist. It hurts more than he can rationalize to think that Cas felt – still feels – expendable. “ _Fuck._ ” 

“Yeah.” Sam sighs and shifts in his seat; Dean can feel his gaze on him, burning into the side of his face. “We have to find a way to tell him it’s not true. I mean, if we want him to cast Lucifer out then we need to make him understand that he’s worth saving – that we need him back.”

“ _Want_ him back,” Dean corrects. “It’s not about needing him, that’s the whole damn point. He’s gotta know that we _want_ him, that losing him like this is— Jesus, Sam, it’s freakin’ _killing me_.”

A startled silence expands between them in the wake of his sudden confession; Dean’s not entirely sure what he’s just admitted, but he can feel Sam scrutinizing him and his ears burn hot, heart pounding under his ribs. _Shit_ , he thinks and doesn’t even know why. _Shit_.

Dean lets a beat fall, then another, until eventually Sam clears his throat. He sounds like he’s dancing on eggshells when he says, “So, uh, we need to figure out how you can tell him that, without Lucifer overhearing.”

“I don’t care if that dickbag hears.”

“Uh,” Sam barks a dark laugh, “yeah, you do. Because if Lucifer hears… Dean, he’ll twist it. Whatever you say to Cas, Lucifer will twist it to mean something else. Trust me, man. I know what I’m talking about.”

And, yeah, Dean can’t deny that. Not that he wants to hear it, but he’s not dumb enough to ignore Sam’s warning. His fingers clench on the steering wheel. “So… We have to talk to Cas without Lucifer listening in, but we can’t do that unless Cas casts Lucifer out. And he won’t cast Lucifer out unless we can talk to him alone and convince him to do it. Freakin’ awesome.”

“Catch Twenty-Two.”

“Fuck,” Dean says again and they let the subject drop. 

But he doesn’t stop worrying at the problem all the way down to Tennessee, and by the time they arrive he has a plan. It’s probably crazy, it probably won’t work, but it’s the best he’s got.

It doesn’t take long to dig up a couple of old press reports about mysterious deaths at a house on Cottonwood Drive. It’s been abandoned for years now – no surprise, given what’s nesting there – so they decide to get a motel for the night and head out fresh the next day.

By the morning, Dean’s on edge. But Sam doesn’t comment, which is fortunate because Dean’s keeping his plan to himself. Mostly because Sam would refuse to cooperate if he knew what Dean had in mind.

“I’ll go into the nest,” he offers casually as they pull up outside the house on Cottonwood.

Sam frowns. “Really? Thought you said it was my turn.”

“Nah, it makes sense; I’ll know what I’m up against this time. Uh…” He rubs at the bruise on the back of his ribs, courtesy of Sam beating the crap outa his possessed body. “But you gotta lock me down this time, okay?”

For once, Sam doesn’t argue and so that’s how it goes down. First they break the sigil Bobby had drawn all those years ago, and then Sam starts working on its sequel and Dean prowls the derelict house like bait. It’s not long before he hears footsteps, feels the temperature drop; he figures this Soul Eater’s probably starving after all this time locked away.

Then something grabs his ankle and he’s waking up in the _other_ house. 

Just like before, it’s drained of color – it reminds him of Purgatory. Perhaps that’s why the first thing he sees when he turns around is Cas, sprawled dead on the floor. His body is broken and bloody, the shadow of his great wings charcoaled into the hardwood. Dean’s stomach pitches and he blinks the illusion away fast.

Cautious, he makes his way to the right place in the house and slices open his palm to start drawing the sigil. There’s movement in the shadows but he keeps his back turned and works fast. When he’s almost finished, he stops, bloody fingers raised to draw the last line. His heart is climbing up into his throat. There’s every chance that this will backfire, that he’ll end up with the devil breathing down his neck, but he figures it’s worth the risk. Besides, in this place outside time, the only person who’ll get hurt if it goes to shit is himself. And he can live with that. 

Bracing himself, he closes his eyes. “Castiel.” He says it loud in the whispering silence. “I pray to Castiel to get in here and talk to me.” He sucks in a breath, stiffens his spine. “C’mon, Cas, I know you can hear me. I know you can—”

Behind him there’s the flutter of wings and the old, familiar sensation of displaced air against the back of his neck. Dean opens his eyes, stares at the unfinished sigil. He holds his breath; this could be an illusion, or – worse – it could be Lucifer… 

“Hello Dean.”

His stomach swoops at the sound of that voice, but when Dean turns around he keeps it slow and cautious. He wants so badly for it to be _him_ , but wishes won’t wash dishes and Dean won’t be fooled twice. “Cas?” He keeps his hand raised near the sigil, ready. “You in the driving seat?” 

Cas tips his head to one side in confusion. “Where is this place?”

For a couple of heartbeats Dean just stares, scouring his face, those soulful eyes, for any glimpse of Lucifer’s malice. But there’s nothing; there’s only Cas looking back at him with his usual furrowed concern.

“Dean, what’s wrong?”

“Shit.” The rush of relief is so intense that Dean’s hands start shaking, dripping blood onto the floor. “Shit, Cas, it’s good to see you, man.”

Cas doesn’t respond to that, instead looking around him with interest. “This is a Soul Eater’s nest. There are many souls trapped in here, Dean. You’re here to free them?”

“Yeah. Yeah, but first I gotta… Cas?” He draws Cas’s wandering attention back to him. “What the fuck, dude? _Lucifer_?”

Cas blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Are you kidding me? You—” He stops abruptly, ambushed by a sudden fear. “Crap. Okay, wait. What—” A dozen possibilities skitter through his head. “Uh, what year did you come from?” 

“I don’t understand.”

“This place – it’s outside of time, right?”

“Yes. Outside of space _and_ time, in fact.”

“Right. But when you heard me praying – what year was it? On Earth.”

“I wasn’t on Earth,” Cas says. “Dean, please explain what’s going on.”

“You weren’t on Earth?”

Cas takes a step closer, eyes narrowing in exasperation. “You understand that in our true form angels don’t exist within linear time? In many ways we’re omnipresent.” He gives a half smile, like he’s making a joke. “Although, despite what some of my siblings believe, we’re neither omniscient nor omnipotent.” 

“Right,” Dean says, suddenly aware that Cas is… different. He _is_ Cas; he’s just not _his_ Cas. There’s something off. “So you’re saying you exist everywhere at once?”

“No, that’s not an accurate description.” He thinks for a moment, face scrunching. “You could say that while I’m here, outside linear time, I have the potential to exist at any point _within_ linear time, and therefore I exist at _all_ points within linear time.” He gives Dean an understanding look. “It’s alright; I don’t expect you to understand. My true form is literally beyond human comprehension.” Then he looks around again, once more perplexed. “So…why _did_ you summon me here, Dean? What do you need?”

“Ah!” Dean stops him right there, lifts a hand to emphasize the point. “First, I don’t _need_ anything. Second, I didn’t _summon_ you. That’s…” He takes a breath, fixes his eyes on this version of Cas who’s somehow _every_ version of Cas – human and damaged, angelic and powerful as fuck – and says, “I want to talk to you; there’s some things I want you to know.”

Cas tilts his head in invitation. “What things?”

“Like— Like, when I pray to you and say ‘Get down here’, it’s not a freakin’ _summons_ , okay? You’re not Crowley.” He takes a step closer, trying to find the right words to explain what he means – trying to understand it himself. But he can’t even pinpoint when Cas became so important to him, so integral to his life – which probably speaks volumes about how much he’s been taking him for granted all these years. He takes another half step closer. “It’s just— Cas, I call you because I want you around, okay? I mean, maybe sometimes I need backup, or whatever, but mostly it’s because I value your opinion and, uh, your company.” He can feel his face burning. “Or whatever. Okay?”

Cas narrows his eyes. “Okay…”

“And when I’m a jerk and chew you out over stuff? That doesn’t mean that I don’t still—uh, value you.”

“I understand that I’m valuable to you,” Cas says slowly. “I don’t understand why you think you need to tell me—”

“No,” Dean cuts him off, frustrated. “No, that’s not it. You're not _valuable_ to me.”

“I'm not?”

“No, you _are_ , obviously. But it’s not—”

“Dean, you’re not making much sense.”

“I _know_ , it’s just—” 

“Are you using the word ‘valuable’ as a euphemism?” 

There’s something intent in Cas’s eyes now, something incisive; Dean can feel that keen gaze of his piercing his soul, cutting through all his bullshit. “I…” He swallows. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe.”

To his surprise, Cas reaches out to squeeze Dean’s shoulder. “It’s alright,” he says. “I understand what you’re trying to do.” His expression softens, turns gentle and fond. “Thank you.”

And Dean feels himself responding, rising to meet that open affection with unexpected excitement. It catches, fizzing, in his chest and all he can say is, “Cas…?” 

“Dean.” Cas lifts his hand from Dean’s shoulder, presses his palm against his cheek. “Dean, I think you’re trying to tell me that you love me.”

His eyes pop wide because _no_ … 

And yet standing there, with Cas studying him with those clear, purposeful eyes and an affectionate smile on his lips, Dean feels something skip in his chest. It’s terrifying, exhilarating; he doesn’t know what the hell’s happening to him. This is Cas, for Christ’s sake. And Dean doesn’t— He’s never—

And yet, this is _Cas_. 

And maybe he does; maybe he always has.

“I said yes to Lucifer.” Cas is focusing on Dean as if he’s trying to parse the truth. “And now you’re attempting to persuade me to cast him out. Yes?”

Dean nods, lost for words.

“As I explained,” Cas says, “in this place, outside of time, I exist at all points in time. And so I know you Dean Winchester. I know every version of you. And I know exactly what I mean to you, how _much_ I mean to you.” He gives a rueful smile, a twitch at one corner of his mouth. “At this point, I probably understand you a lot better than you understand yourself.”

“Not difficult, dude,” he says shakily, “because I have no freakin' clue what’s happening here…”

“In this place, I can see _everything_.” 

Dean jumps when Cas curls his hand behind his neck, but he doesn’t pull away. His heart’s racing, face flushed, and the sensation’s electric as Cas runs his thumb along the line of Dean’s jaw and steps forward to touch their foreheads together. “Dean,” he murmurs, words ghosting over Dean’s mouth like a kiss – a _kiss_? – “I can’t tell you much, but you should know that this is not the end.”

“It’s not?” 

“Have faith, Dean.” 

He barks a harsh laugh. “In _what_?”

“In yourself.” Cas pulls back only far enough that he can look Dean in the eye. “You won’t succumb to the Darkness, Dean; you have other more profound bonds that will hold you in the light.”

And then abruptly he lets go, swinging around with one arm raised and his palm facing out; the Soul Eater is prowling the shadows, cold and full of spite. Dean can see it now, too. “Finish your sigil,” Cas growls. “Quickly.”

“But does _he_ know?” Dean says, not moving. “I mean, the version of you that’s possessed by Lucifer, does _he_ know how much you mean to us… to me?”

The Soul Eater stalks closer, dank with ill intention, summoning its own grim power –who knows, maybe it’s tapping into the Darkness itself? 

Cas bristles, flexes his wings. The static hum of his grace fills the room as he holds the Soul Eater at bay. “Dean, finish the sigil.”

“But does he _know_?”

Cas flings him an exasperated look. “No,” he snaps. “But he’ll learn. You’ll show him, Dean.”

“ _Show_ him?”

“You’ll show each other.” There’s an inscrutable smile on Cas’s face as he turns back to the Soul Eater. “In some depth, actually.” 

And Dean doesn’t know what the hell to make of that, but it sets something humming under his skin that has nothing to do with fear or the Soul Eater or even Amara. That’s probably why he says, “Sounds like a promise.”

“It’s a fact,” Cas says. And then, relenting, “Also a promise. Now go, Dean. I don’t know what effect it would have on spacetime if I smote this creature here.”

And that’s enough for Dean. He lifts his bloody fingers to the wall. With half an inch to spare he glances over his shoulder to find Cas watching him in return. Their eyes meet and hold. “I’ll see you on the other side,” Dean says and refuses to make it a question.

Cas gives a scant nod. “You will,” he says. “Very soon.”

And yeah, _that_ sounds like a promise. 

Dean closes the sigil and the world whites out.

 

He wakes up hogtied and grinning like an idiot. Sam’s staring down at him – well, _glaring_ down at him. “Dude, what took you so long?”

“Just catching up,” he says, wriggling against his bonds. “Undo this, would you?”

“Catching up?” Sam crouches to loosen the knots around his wrists. “With a Soul Eater?”

Dean shakes his head as he sits up, starts working on his tied feet now that his hands are free. “With Cas.”

Sam goes very still. “With _Cas_?”

“I, uh, prayed.”

“Dude! Lucifer could probably hear every word you—”

“He didn’t, okay? It was different. Because of the nest.”

It only takes a moment for Sam to catch on. “You were outside time, so you could pray to a different version of Cas… Dean, that’s— Wow, that’s actually pretty smart.”

“Hey! I _am_ smart.” The ropes loosen and he kicks himself free, climbing to his feet. “Anyhow, Cas showed up.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “Alone?”

“Yeah. He was…odd, though.”

“Odd how?”

He frowns, not entirely sure how to explain the Every Flavor Beans version of Cas he’d met. “He was sort of from all times at once, or something? It was kinda freaky.” And that’s not even the half of it…

But Sam nods like it isn’t crazy. “I get it. The nest is outside time, which I guess Heaven is too – and Hell, right? So you summoned a kind of omnipresent Cas.”

“Right, that’s what he said. Only I didn’t _summon_ him, Sam, I just…” He scrubs a hand through his hair, uncomfortable. “I don’t summon him like he’s a demon. It’s…different.”

Sam lifts his eyebrows and after a pause says, “Okay. So, uh, what did he say? I mean, did he know about Amara? About how to cast out Lucifer?”

Dean looks out the dirty window of the house into the bright morning; there’s birdsong and a hopeful blue sky, a couple of early blossoms on the trees in defiance of the late winter chill. “Yeah,” he says, “he knew. Wasn’t giving anything away, but…” He can’t keep the smile from breaking out again, even if it’s half nervous and completely confused. “He said this wasn’t the end.” And he’s not sure whether to add the next bit, but he figures Sam would want to hear it as much as he did. “He says I won’t give in to the Darkness, that I have other – stronger – bonds to keep me in the light.”

Sam huffs out a laugh. “Really? Wow, that’s— Dean, that’s amazing. I mean, I knew you wouldn’t give in, obviously, but… Man, that’s like having a cast-iron guarantee that we’re gonna beat this, right?”

Dean’s smile broadens and he squeezes a hand over the back of his neck, self-conscious in a way that’s new. He takes a breath and remembers the sensation of Cas pressing his palm to his cheek, of their foreheads touching, of Cas breathing a promise like a kiss against his lips. As if Cas had _wanted_ to kiss him, as if he’d expected Dean to want it too. 

It’s strange and exciting, unexpected and yet oddly inevitable, and he feels an urgent sense of hope. And, hell, if it ain’t the best thing he’s felt in a long, long time.

“Yeah,” he says smiling into Sam’s curious eyes, “yeah, it’s a promise. We’re gonna beat this, Sammy, and then…” He has to turn away before Sam can read too much into his slow grin. “And then who knows what else? But I think we’re gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay, Sam.”

And for the first time in forever, he thinks he might believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song of the same name by the Rolling Stones.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading - hope you enjoyed it! :) You can find me on Tumblr as [enochian-things](http://www.enochian-things.tumblr.com/) so come and say hi! :)


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